“I could introduce you to some other vampires who would be amenable to—”
“No,” I say. “I don’t want that.”
“It would just be for your protection,” Claude says, “until Lord Ambrose’s attention wanders elsewhere.”
It makes a certain amount of sense, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. I can’t imagine being someone else’s valentine. The mere thought of it… I shake my head, turning to gaze out the window. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“We have to talk about it,” Claude says, with a gentleness that makes my eyes burn. “I don’t like it either, Nora, but I will do whatever it takes to protect you.”
I shake my head again, unable to find the words. It seems so unfair, so impossibly cruel, that the best we can hope for is him protecting me by letting me go. “We’ll talk about it closer to the end of our contract,” I say, finally. “But not now. Maybe there will be another option.” Even if it seems impossible right now.
* * *
Claude told me this party would be different, but I didn’t realize just how different. The mansion hosting this event is just as lovely as any of the others, with an old-school Victorian charm,but it’s soquiet. Only a few dozen vampires and valentines are in attendance, spread throughout the open space in small clusters of conversation.
It’s intimidating in an altogether different way than the other events, yet at least I don’t feel so out of place here. Still, I won’t ignore the opportunity to hold tightly to Claude’s arm as he offers it. Any excuse to touch him, to be near him, to spend time with him, even though I’m the one who insisted we shouldn’t do those things.
He, as always, seems oblivious to any stares or sense of being incongruous. He leads me straight toward a pair of women standing near a marble bust.
“Ah, Claude,” the vampire says with an easy smile. “You made it.”
“You know me, never one to miss a party,” he says, and gestures to me. “This is my valentine, Nora. Nora, this is my old friend, Lady Georgiana de Celeste, and her valentine Farah.”
We make polite conversation, but it’s hard for me to keep up with social niceties with Claude’s words from the car weighing on me. After a short while, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. I take my time finding my way back, admiring some of the portraits adorning the walls. I stop short when I recognize one of them as Claude’s, and stare up at it, struck by a nameless surge of emotion as I look at the painting of a lake under the setting sun.
I’m not sure how long I stand there before Claude finds me. He stops silently at my side, staring up at the portrait, and I jolt guiltily as if caught doing something wrong.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I was distracted…”
He slips an arm around my shoulders. “It’s alright.” His gaze flicks to me before wandering slowly, almost unwillingly, back to his painting. Those endless blue eyes show every little thing he’s feeling: sorrow, pride, a deep and terrible yearning.
“I love this one,” I say quietly. “It feels… nostalgic, somehow.”
“It’s a place I used to dream about,” he says. “Maybe a memory from before the orphanage, or maybe someplace I made up. I’ve never been sure.”
“You don’t dream about it anymore?”
He shakes his head, his gaze still locked on his artwork. “I can’t remember the last time I dreamed.” We stand in the quiet for a long moment before I slip my arm through his. “We should get back to the party.”
He finally tears his eyes away. “Right.” He places a hand over mine and squeezes, and we wander back into the main ballroom.
We’ve barely entered when a voice halts us.
“Are you Nora?”
I blink, turning around to see a human woman smiling at me. She has a head of gorgeous curls and is wearing a butter-yellow dress, unusual for a valentine, but she’s so glamorous she couldn’t be anything else.
I blink a couple times. I’m not used to people approaching to talk to me instead of Claude. “Yes?”
“Hi! I’m Amelia. We have a mutual friend, Lord Benjamin Acharya? The Valentine Society helped pair me with my patron as well.”
“Oh! Lovely.” I shake her hand, smiling. “He mentioned you. You’re with a Celeste vampire?”
“Yup!” She points across the party at a dark-haired gentleman in all black. He glances over as Amelia gestures to him, and his somber disposition softens. “I’m here with—”
“Lord Sebastian de Celeste?” Claude leans forward, his eyes locked on the other vampire with an expression I can’t decipher. “The hero of the last court war?”
“Oh, well, yes. But he doesn’t really like to talk about that.”
